


Save it from the ashes

by Lethally



Category: The Originals (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fix-it fic, Spoilers for 5.06
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 10:52:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15023015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lethally/pseuds/Lethally
Summary: “Welcome home, Little wolf.”





	Save it from the ashes

**Author's Note:**

> Started from a tumblr prompt and my brain went auto pilot on a resurrection fic because i'll be damned if I ever accept this death as canon.

There’s something wrong with this dream. Her brain is fuzzy, time passing her by, sometimes days in seconds, sometimes seconds in hours, in that surreal way of dreams, yet the ground feels solid beneath her feet and there is a hand at her naked elbow the whole time; skin warm and slightly callused inducing an endless shiver running through her body.

She wants to turn to the person next to her, but her head is stuck backward, looking in on memories that she lived through. She thinks the hand at her elbow wasn’t always there, she has a memory rattling in her head of a colder arm, but all she feels is the hand anchoring her. 

Her life plays on like a movie, Hope’s birth in fast forward, but her first words slower than it truly did. 

She’s getting tired of dreaming, and walking away isn’t an option when her legs feel like part of the ground, she itches to look down at her feet, to see if they are truly embedded in the floor, or perhaps gone. 

She wishes she could see the person holding on to her, their presence feels so familiar, despite her being unaware of who they are, she knows that this person is important, that their hand holding on to her is a good thing, that she wants them to hold on. 

The movie of her life is fast forwarding, not even stopping on Hope’s birthdays anymore. Something is waiting for her, at the end of the movie there’s something she forgot, something she’s supposed to remember, but the thought of remembering fills her with dread and she starts shivering. 

Her whole body shaking in fear and the hand at her elbow tightens, painfully so, the warmth spreads out, as if to fight the cold fear seeping from her heart to her veins. She feels a harsh tug, a sense of urgency, a soundless voice screaming at her to look at them, another, harsher, fearful pull and her name, desperately whispered. 

She remembers them.

The movie is still playing but the bonds holding her still break free, her body suddenly her own again, and so very weak and tired. The hand at her elbow becomes an arm around her waist pulling her up as her knees bend and pull her closer to the dirt. 

Turning her head is agonizing but she does, and sees him, his eyes wide and afraid as her pulls her up and away. Each step feels like burning alive again, the agony of her death she now remembers, relived at every step. He is burning but his eyes are fixed on something she can’t see, something they need to reach before whatever time she had left runs out. 

He speaks to her, through gritted teeth and they burn to ashes at every step, pulling her forward with his body and his words, telling her of their daughter, of the people waiting for her, of his love for her.  _His love?_  

Her eyes are stuck on his mouth, her brain focused on walking forward, matching pace with his hurried steps. A black shape appears on the edge of her eyesight, an old mahogany door in the middle of the desert right in front of them. 

Her hand reaches to the handle, but he catches it and pulls it to his lips, his eyes no longer in agony but crinkling saphirs as he kisses her hand first, then her lips, sweetly, kindly, the pain of death siphoned off her body as she feels herself fall alongside him. 

She wakes up to a mouthful of sand, choking in the darkness, her heart squeezing in fear, lost and panicked until a hand, familiar, pulls her upward, into the moonlight and his arms again. 

“Welcome home, Little wolf.” 


End file.
